The Way Things Are

It is over a year since I wrote here about my daughter. How has she changed? I ask myself. Her legs are longer, her hair darker, her shoe-size 13 ½; to my mind she looks like a teenager.

We’re having a cup of tea. She drinks tea now, with two sugars. I knock my cup against the table, spilling some of it onto the carpet.

‘Don’t worry daddy, just use Vanish,’ my daughter says. 'It washes four times whiter. Just sprinkle it on and the carpet will be fragrant.’

She watches adverts featuring attractive mums with shiny, white smiles now. I laugh and think how much she's changed.

‘Do you remember when we used to go to the Model Village and Bunny World ?’ I ask her.
‘Yes daddy, of course.’
‘Your favourite thing at the Model Village was the chocolate,’ I say, smiling at the thought.
‘Chocolate? It still is,’ she says, looking surprised.
I smile and ask her 'What are you writing ?’

She shows me a Barbie print-out on which she’s written in pink felt-tip:

My Fashion Tips: if you are going out then where a dress. If you want boys to love you where pretty things. Skirts are realy fashionable this summer try one on!

‘That’s good,’ I tell her.
Maybe it's something in my expression, maybe something within her that makes her say ‘Don’t worry daddy, I don’t want boys to love me.’